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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27978213">The Tigers Have Spoken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_across/pseuds/dance_across'>dance_across</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Aladdin (1992)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Language Barrier, POV Rajah, Protective Rajah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:34:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27978213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_across/pseuds/dance_across</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Jasmine, I’ve been—” The boy stops short when he sees it’s not the princess herself come to greet him, but the princess’s tiger. “Oh. Um. Hi. I was just…”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Rajah plants himself in the middle of the doorway. He is a solid barrier, but he is also ready to move, should the boy decide to try any of his idiot cleverness. He knows the boy can tell.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Rajah is very good at his job.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aladdin &amp; Rajah (Disney), Aladdin/Jasmine (Disney) (background), Jasmine &amp; Rajah (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tigers Have Spoken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecinnamoninoctober/gifts">likecinnamoninoctober</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Yuletide, likecinnamoninoctober! Your prompt was absolutely wonderful, and I hope you enjoy the idea that it gave me.</p><p>Many thanks to A for the beta, and to Neko Case for the title.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something changes, ever so slightly: a subtle shift in the air that none of the others seem to notice. The boy is still creeping up the stone stairs that curl around the dais in the middle of the room; he does this with a caution that speaks to a lifetime of avoiding traps, a caution that leaves little room for him to notice anything else. The monkey on his shoulder leaps onto the dais and points at something.</p><p>The princess’s father holds a small wooden contraption, turning it over and over with brows furrowed and curiosity in his eyes. The odds are even that he will end up bruised or bleeding, with no vizier to magic him whole again.</p><p>The princess herself, though—the princess, <i>his</i> princess—has gone utterly still at the other side of the room. Her spine is rigid, and though only her back is visible, he can feel that she is holding her breath.</p><p>A change. A subtle shift. A stillness where the comfortable and familiar flow of his princess’s breath should be.</p><p>He hesitates for only a moment before abandoning his guard post at the door. Padding over to his princess, he nudges her hip with his nose. It’s the smallest touch, but it startles her into movement—into breath. She turns to look at him, her eyes huge, and he gets a glimpse of what she’s discovered.</p><p>Before her is a shelf of trinkets and oddities, some of which he recognizes, most of which he doesn’t. Scientific devices, he suspects—and magic ones, too. Toward the left end of the shelf is a dustless space, a hole where a trinket has been removed. And in the princess’s hands is an hourglass.</p><p>It’s not the same one.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>Rajah remembers that day, too; his princess wasn’t the only one who found herself transformed. He still dreams, sometimes, of being smaller and lesser than he really is. Of being rendered incapable of defending his princess.</p><p>He can only imagine what she is remembering.</p><p>Before he can coax her into telling him, though, she replaces the hourglass on its shelf and begins moving away. Not even a scratch of his head or a stroke of his ears as she goes. She’s walking, then she’s walking faster, and that’s when the boy spots her. His face contorts; he’s finally sensed that something’s wrong.</p><p>“Jasmine?” he calls. “Hey, Jasmine!”</p><p>Abandoning caution, he leaps from the stone staircase. He lands with that odd grace he has, and he darts for her. Catches her by the shoulder, saying, “Hey, what’s—”</p><p>“No,” she says, shrugging off his touch. “No, just—” For a moment it seems she will turn to him, but she doesn’t. “I can’t. I can’t.” And she runs from the room.</p><p>“What the…?” says the boy. But his hesitation lasts only a moment before he springs into action, ready to follow.</p><p>That moment is enough, though, for Rajah to place himself firmly between the boy and the door.</p><p>He growls a warning, and the boy stops in his tracks. Puts his hands up in a very human gesture of surrender, even takes a few steps back. The monkey is watching from the dais. Even the princess’s father seems, finally, to have noticed something is wrong.</p><p>“Easy,” says the boy, in a tone he probably thinks is placating. “Easy, there.” It’s not placating. It’s irritating. “Good… good tiger. Good boy.” As though Rajah is some simple house cat, easily distracted by treats and darting objects.</p><p>Once he’s driven the boy back to where he came from—back to the foot of the stairs—Rajah lets out a snarl to drive his point home. The boy and the princess’s father are to stay here and continue their work: sorting through the vizier’s things, determining what’s too dangerous to get rid of and what’s too dangerous to keep.</p><p>Rajah does not need help with his own work.</p><p>-</p><p>He follows his princess’s scent easily and finds her in her rooms. On her balcony, just as he suspected. She often comes here when her mind is ill at ease. As he approaches, he takes care to make noise—just enough to alert her to his presence. Sure enough, when he sits beside her, she isn’t startled. She just rests her hand on his head with a sigh.</p><p>He likes the small weight of it. It reassures him of his place.</p><p>“I overreacted,” she says after a long moment. “I shouldn’t have… He was only trying to…” But then her fingers curl in Rajah’s fur, and she blows out a long breath. “No. What happened that day was horrible, and being forced to remember it is nearly as bad. He should understand that.”</p><p>He probably should, Rajah thinks, but he doesn’t. The boy may be too clever for his own good, but that doesn’t mean he’s wise.</p><p>“You understand, though, don’t you, Rajah?”</p><p>He responds with a low noise—<i>Yes, I understand</i>—and that’s all it takes: his princess is on her knees beside him, her arms around his neck. He lets himself be held, lets himself be an anchor, and her body tells him so much more than her voice ever could.</p><p>How the memory of that day still lives deep within her. How she’s tried to convince herself that she can be rid of it through sheer force of will. How exhausted she is from realizing, over and over, that she can’t.</p><p>He rests his head on her sturdy shoulder, and there they sit: the tiger and his princess, quiet and alone and—</p><p>No. Not alone.</p><p>Something is moving just outside the princess’s rooms. Moving, hesitating, moving again. Rajah catches a scent on the air, and a frustrated rumble rises in his throat. The idiot boy has followed them after all—and nobody, absolutely nobody, is allowed to interrupt the princess when she’s in such a fragile state.</p><p>Extricating himself from his princess’s arms, Rajah bumps his cheek against hers—<i>I’ll be right back</i>—and creeps toward the door. Sure enough, the boy is lurking just outside. No monkey on his shoulder. Just him.</p><p>“Jasmine, I’ve been—” The boy stops short when he sees it’s not the princess herself come to greet him, but the princess’s tiger. “Oh. Um. Hi. I was just…”</p><p>Rajah plants himself in the middle of the doorway. He is a solid barrier, but he is also ready to move, should the boy decide to try any of his idiot cleverness. He knows the boy can tell.</p><p>Rajah is very good at his job.</p><p>The boy considers him. His eyebrows draw together. “Why can’t I see her? Come on, just let me in.”</p><p>Rajah looks at him.</p><p>“Did I mess up? I was only trying to help before.”</p><p>Rajah looks at him.</p><p>The boy’s hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck. Embarrassment glows on his skin, but it doesn’t seem genuine. “I really just want to help. If you just let me through, I can help her. Promise.”</p><p>Rajah sighs. Is this what his princess fell for? A boy full of misplaced certainty and intentionally misleading body language? A trickster, this one.</p><p>“Come on, let me through.” The embarrassment melts away, leaving a sun-bright smile in its wake. A different tactic. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. With actual scratching, if you want. How about it?”</p><p>Rajah narrows his eyes.</p><p>“All right, not that, not that,” says the boy. “How about… hmm.” His eyes dart here and there, as if the space around him contains the key to moving Rajah aside.</p><p>Rajah permits himself a low growl. The boy might as well know exactly where he stands.</p><p>Startled, the boy jumps back. “Easy, there,” he says, hands out like a shield. “Easy.” But he doesn’t leave.</p><p>Rajah is on the verge of losing his patience. Why does this boy insist on speaking to him like a common cat, when he and his monkey communicate as easily as if they shared a language? Surely he knows better. Surely he can’t be that obtuse—although maybe he is, since he’s still there, still looking at Rajah like his presence in the doorway is a puzzle to be solved.</p><p>But then… the boy’s shoulders slump. The pretense drains from his body. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have followed you. And I shouldn’t have grabbed her before, when she was upset about…” He blinks. “What was she upset about? Did you see?”</p><p>Rajah tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t know how to communicate <i>hourglass, sand, drowning</i> in a way that the boy will understand, so he simply waits to see where the boy’s thoughts take him next.</p><p>“I guess it doesn’t matter,” the boy says with a sigh. “She was upset, and I…”</p><p>Rajah looks at him. Waits. He’s actually curious, now, to see where this will go.</p><p>“How do I make it up to her?” the boy asks. Then: “What does she need?”</p><p>It’s been a very long time since Rajah has been surprised by any sort of human behavior, but there’s no better word for how he feels right now. The simplest of questions, asked honestly, accompanied by an expression that says the boy actually wants to hear an answer.</p><p>More than that: an expression that says he’s <i>ready</i> to hear the answer.</p><p>Maybe the boy isn’t just idiocy and cleverness. Maybe there’s some wisdom hidden in there after all.</p><p>Plus, the princess loves him. And to Rajah, that means something.</p><p>And so, he begins to demonstrate what the boy must do. He settles himself on the ground, resting his head on his paws, the most submissive position he’s ever taken for someone other than his princess: <i>Follow her lead.</i></p><p>The boy’s face brightens, and he says, “Really? Thanks!” And he begins to sidle past Rajah. He’s misinterpreted.</p><p>Rajah leaps to his feet and sidesteps directly into the boy’s path, a growl rising in his throat again. He crowds the boy back into the hall—back to where he was a moment ago, when he asked his question. Rajah puts a paw directly in front of the boy’s feet: <i>You were there. Stay there.</i></p><p>Then he resumes his submissive position. His eyes are still on the boy’s face. How long until he understands?</p><p>A moment passes. Then another.</p><p>Then, accompanied by a small intake of breath, the boy’s eyebrows shoot up.</p><p>There it is.</p><p>“You’re just answering my question,” says the boy with a laugh. “Should’ve known. That’s what I need to do, right? Just be…” He gestures at Rajah, whose belly is still on the floor, and Rajah can see him trying to choose the right word. Finally, he lands on: “Quiet. Just be quiet and listen to her.”</p><p>Even if Rajah’s tongue were capable of producing human speech, he couldn’t have put it better himself.</p><p>Slowly, he stands again, eyes still locked on the boy’s. He takes a few steps forward and bumps his nose against the boy’s hand.</p><p><i>That’s right,</i> it means.</p><p>“Thanks,” says the boy. “Can I, ah… Should I scratch behind your ears? Or something?”</p><p>Rajah’s first instinct is disgust. The sheer indignity of being scratched by anyone other than his princess! But then… this is someone his princess loves. And his fingers seem perfectly capable. And a scratch behind the ears always feels<i> so good.</i></p><p>He makes a small noise of assent, and the boy understands it for what it is. He scratches. Rajah even lets himself enjoy it a little.</p><p>Possibly a lot.</p><p>But eventually, the boy’s attention turns toward the open door again. “All right with you if I go inside? Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but, you know. Jasmine comes first.”</p><p>Truer words have never been spoken in any human tongue.</p><p>Still, when Rajah moves aside to let the boy pass, he makes a show of it. He wants the boy to understand the enormity of what’s being allowed.</p><p>And from the way the boy smiles, it seems like he actually does. “She’s lucky, you know. To have a friend like you.”</p><p>Rajah lifts a paw and licks it: <i>I know.</i></p><p>The boy laughs and slips inside the princess’s rooms. For a moment, Rajah considers following, spying, seeing what the boy will do. He doesn’t, though. The boy deserves space to prove himself worthy of his princess.</p><p>If he missteps again… well, that’s what Rajah’s claws are for.</p><p>But for once in his life, Rajah is pretty sure he won’t have to use them.</p>
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